Hours after everyone's left and Mamoru's had some sleep and Usagi's woken up and snuck out and Mamoru's feeling better and munching on a cinnamon roll, he takes his phone out again and determinedly texts.
Chiba TXT: hey sorry about all that, it wasn't your fault. i'm super awake. window's unlocked. come by? you wanted to know about motivation
He stares at the screen, other hand covered in cinnamon bun icing.
It's actually a fairly long time before Suzuki responds. Mind you, she'd seen the message before then. Just hadn't responded yet. She had debated just not responding, even. 20, maybe 30 minutes later...
Suzu TXT: 'I'll be there shortly.'
Suzuki Natsume is at the window not long after that. She had used Storm Knight to get there, but she just hadn't cared if anyone saw her, and mid-leap she'd allowed the transformation to fade, resulting in a somewhat rough landing on the other side of the window. She managed to catch herself, but it was not as graceful as she'd hoped it would have been. She straightens up, turning her gaze towards Mamoru after that, and ... she was silent, not entirely sure what to say.
It's the thump that startles him out of his sugar-induced beginning-to-doze; ten minutes after he'd texted, he finished the cinnamon bun and unabashedly licked his fingers clean since no one's looking; twenty minutes after he'd texted, he was considering starting to play Monsters Ate My Condo; when Suzuki finally texts back, he'd let his phone fall to the bed and the aforementioned doze-start began.
So it's something of a surprise when a really large bird hits the window.
Well okay the window IS open and she doesn't HIT it but it's not stealthy at all. After waking up in a hurry, Mamoru lets out a short, breathless laugh. "Suzu-chan," he says in relief. "Everything worked out and it's thanks to you, I also wanted you to know that. Come in-- it's okay. Come in. I can tell you. I'm going to tell you."
Suzuki's gaze trails towards that cinnamon bun, taking note of the fact that at least one of them had been eaten. That seemed to please her, at least subtly in the back of her mind. She didn't show it much though, she mostly just looked tired. As Mamoru begins to talk, Suzuki takes a small inhale.
"...I made a mistake and so just worked to fix it. ... I am sorry I was not fast enough to stop Akemi-san from touching you." Suzuki says, taking a small breath. "Your motivation? Or ... something more important?" She asks quietly.
"It's okay. It wouldn't have been a big deal if I hadn't been so out of it. Which, by the way, I finally convinced them to take me off the painkillers, and I'm already starting to heal," says Mamoru, putting his phone aside and laboriously pushing himself to sit up. "And Akemi-san will be fine, though she'll have questions for me, I'm sure," he adds wryly.
There is some belabored pillow-arranging so he can sit back without a hard surface behind him, and he pulls the blanket up so he can draw his knees up. "Both, really. They're intertwined. You're a good friend to me, you deserve to know anyway." He pauses, then laughs a little. "I'm not sure where to start," the upperclassman admits. Dive in headfirst: that's the best way to handle things, right? So right. "I'm Tuxedo Kamen."
"That's good. On both counts. ... Painkillers are nice for the pain, but the loss of ability to properly think is unpleasant." Suzuki responds dully, not entirely sure how to word it otherwise. Hmm. "As I'm sure Hannah did when you touched her." As he re-arranges the pillows and shifts underneath the blanket, she takes a step or two closer. "...Intertwined? ... I see." Suzuki was expecting something more mundane.
She was not expecting 'I'm Tuxedo Kamen'. Her facial expression falters briefly, faintly... relieved? But her face returned to its neutral look almost immediately. "...So I managed to protect you. That also explains why you seemed to know I was Storm Knight -- or was less surprised about it -- before I told you." Suzuki says softly. "..." She takes her breath, as if she were about to continue to say something, but she hesitates. She wasn't sure what else to say, to be honest.
"--I saw you lose your henshin," admits Mamoru sheepishly. He spreads his hands. "I'm sorry, I'm not good at this. But you've protected me multiple times, now, and you keep stepping up to that plate, no matter what guise I'm wearing. Akemi-san... also knows who I am. So she may have less questions than Sharpe-san. I don't know what she saw, but she certainly saw something." He looks down at the blanket, fiddling with the hem. "I can control it if I'm paying attention, if I'm focused. Mostly."
There's another pause, and it's one in which he's fishing for the right words, or maybe a starting point. Finally deciding on one, he begins, "You know where I grew up. I hate hospitals because I woke up in one when I was six and didn't know who I was. I still don't, not really. Sometimes I feel like I'm a placeholder. The only reason I can be anything at all is because that night, and every night since, there's been a princess in my dreams. She held me when I was afraid, she kept me company, she made sure I knew there was someone who loved me. I stopped talking about her when the doctors started thinking I was delusional."
Somewhere in there, he looked up; now, he gestures at the visitor's chair. "Sit down, I feel awkward enough about this as it is," he says with a self-effacing little laugh, then sucks in his cheeks for a second. He looks down at his hands again, then up at the wall. "Last year she started crying. Asking me to find something she called the Phantom Silver Crystal. And I started waking up in strange places in Tokyo, dressed like some kind of gentleman thief in a tuxedo, in jewelry stores and museums, having no idea how I got there -- a couple of months ago, a magical girl caught me at it. The night Miss White was robbing that bank, there were jewels being held in transit, and there was magic in them, I could feel it. I was going to look through them for the Ginzuishou myself, that's the only reason I was in the vault in the first place -- so you were protecting a thief. I'm sorry about that."
Finally, his voice is firm, and he looks to lock eyes with Suzuki. "My motivation is to give my princess what she's asking me for. To help her the way she's helped me. To protect her the way she's protected me -- to find her crystal, and to find her. She told me that she needs me... and I don't ever want to disappoint her. I don't ever want to be the cause of her tears. And the Sailor Senshi-- they're her friends and guardians. But they don't know, I can't let them know. They might stop me."
"...I was wondering how that went. I woke up unhenshined, so I wasn't sure if I lost my henshin immediately, or it took me a while." Suzuki says quietly, her eyes sliding mostly closed as she thinks in that. So it must have been instant. "...I try to protect people around me, if I can. If I am there and can protect someone, I'll try to do it." She says quietly. "...I'm glad that you can control it. It seemed to cause both you and Hannah discomfort when you came inton contact with each other before." She says quietly.
She didn't like the thought of her friend in discomfort. She listens silently as he talks, before giving a small nod. "...I cannot say I understand that, but I can somewhat understand why you would hate a hospital because of that." She says quietly, her gaze shifting towards the chair. Slowly, she moves to take a seat in it, settling down almost gingerly.
She was silent as she listens to Mamoru's story of the princess in his dreams, how she was keeping him motivated and letting him be anything. She shifts slowly forward, resting her hands on her knees as she listens to Mamoru. "...I don't care that I was protecting a thief. I'd have done it anyway... besides, you would only steal that important thing.... just... just don't steal anything you don't have to." She says, giving a small nod. She was normally law-abiding! Normally. She didn't care right now.
"...That motivation... sounds like an important one." Suzuki says quietly, nibbling her lip a moment. He had a strong motivation, it felt like. Hers... hers was borrowed. "...I don't have a motivation." She says quietly. "...I didn't realize it until I fought with Miss White recently." She takes a slow breath. "...I guess I already knew, but I didn't admit it. I don't... I don't have a reason to do anything. I've just been using borrowed motivation, parroting what my parents have told me to."
"You do have a reason," Mamoru points out, shifting a little where he's sitting, watching Suzuki intently now. "It wasn't parroting anything when you stood up to Sailor Mars. It wasn't parroting anything when you stood up to protect me from a stalker. It's not fake if you're legitimately putting yourself on the line to help someone, to take a hit for someone, to protect people around you if you can. You're scared when you face people down, but you do it anyway, and that's the definition of bravery, Suzu-chan."
This is where, if he were wearing gloves, he'd reach to put a hand on her shoulder and ground her, make her pay attention, give her calm and focus. But he's not, so instead, he puts his hand palm-down on the blanket between them and determinedly looks at her eyes. "Miss White has some really terrible ideas about why people do the things they do. She's been hurt, and she doesn't really understand what it's like to not be hurt, but to fight anyway, or why anyone would fight unless they had something they wanted. You don't need to want something specific. You can fight because you don't like cruelty or injustice. You can fight because you don't want to see helpless people getting hurt or killed. You can fight because you want the world to be a better place for everyone. And I think you fight for all those reasons."
"...It was a hollow reason. I fought for a duty because my family is descended of samurai. I fought for honor because my parents told me that's what is expected of me." Suzuki responds quietly. "...I fight to be perfect because my parents expect it of me." She says quietly. Really, it wasn't a lack of motivation, but posisbly a far deeper problem she was struggling with. And there was a very slight hint of emotion, the tiniest hint of resentment.
But she did listen to the continued comments. She was listening, even if she was hurting in such a way that she wasn't sure she wanted to. "...I don't like those things, it's true. I don't like seeing people hurting or being made to suffer in front of me." She murmurs quietly, slowly rubbing her face a bit. "...The world is fine, I think. ...There's a lot of bad, but there's also still good..." She says softly, though she wasn't /entirely/ sure-sounding, she was pretty certain of it! Probably! ... It might be true!
"The world's a good place," the lost boy agrees softly, "but it can always be better. It's still a place where children are hurt and where dreams die, it's still a place where greed and ambition take the place of compassion and love, it's still a place where innocence can easily be destroyed. These things are all part of life, and they're all things that we can stop when we catch them in time, or work to mend when we're too late.
"The goodness in the world is what needs protecting, and the goodness in you is what calls you to do so. No insistence on duty, honor, or perfection can hold a candle to that sun I've seen in your heart. Your parents may tell you things, and you may have been thinking that those things are the only things that make you fight, but they're not. Your training is what informs your ability, but your heart is what truly guides your actions."
There's something so intense, so earnest about what Mamoru is saying: there's admiration and fierce believe behind every word he tells Suzuki, and the hand on the thin hospital blanket has clenched, gripping a fistful of the cloth, knuckles white. "That's where your real power comes from. Don't let it falter, and it won't let you down."
Suzuki shifts slightly in her seat, listening to Mamoru as he spoke. The only thing she could think is ... how on earth was he so good at this? She was somewhat glad that she asked him how to find his motivation. "...Those all sound like good reasons to fight." Suzuki says quietly, her eyes half-lidding as she thinks on them. Simple. Yet good. Similar to Mamoru's own reason. "...You speak of them so passionately, it almost sounds like a reason you fight for."
Suzuki takes a small breath. The goodness needs protecting. The world needs to have innocence and dreams protected, children protected from being hurt. Those sounded good. Those sounded reasonable for her. She loved the thought of those -- so why did it still leave her with that hollow feeling? "...I help people so much... it feels good to help them. ... But I feel guilty for it too, on some level." She says quietly, looking towards Mamoru as he holds onto that sheet, watching that tightness of his hands.
She carefully reaches to grabe a small amount of the sheet, so that she can rest her hand on his without triggering that... whatever it was. "...You're gripping too hard, you'll hurt your hands." She says quietly. "...I'll try not to let it falter. I can trust in myself, in my training. T-thats... that's enough, right?" She says quietly. She didn't sound very sure. Whatever it had awakened in her, it was definitely effecting her badly.
Glancing down at his hand, Mamoru stares for a second, then forces his hand to relax, face coloring slightly. He does not speak of it. Nay, it is glossed past with astonishing speed. He smooths the blanket down, then clears his throat and continues with a little less intensity. "Maybe they are reasons I fight. Maybe once I know who I am, things will make more sense to me. For now, though, I can tell you that I've watched people for as far back as I remember, and those qualities, those beliefs, are the ones that shine from the people I admire most."
Suzuki contines, and his gaze softens; he's not hiding it behind glasses or a mask, he's not wearing any kind of a mask at all, in expression or in literal fact. "You don't need to feel guilty for feeling good about doing the right thing. It's not about acclaim. It's not about doing what you do to avoid feeling guilty later if you don't do something. It feels good to help because you're setting things right, you're preserving happiness, you're preventing loss."
Her last words, their tone-- their uncertainty and apologetic nature-- they hurt. He holds out his hand, finally. "Here. I'm focused, Suzu-chan. It won't go wrong. I slept, and I'm paying attention." His hand stays out, mild and undemanding, just there to be taken. His voice is gentle. "You can trust in your ability and your judgement and your training, but what's the most important is that you trust in your heart's ability to choose the right path."
Suzuki pulls her hand away when Mamoru's hand begins to relax, helping striaghten things right back out. She gives a small nod towards him, listening silently. He continues talking about who he watched, reasons he fights... and how he doesn't know who he is. She could empathise with Mamoru. Maybe that's why she liked him so much. They both didn't really know who they are -- albeit for different reasons. "...A good way to find people to look up to. ... I don't have experience with that. ... I was alone until I was put into Seiyou." She murmurs quietly.
That continued comment, those reassuring words. She didn't need to feel guilty about doing good things... "...That's wrong." She says quietly. "...That's not why I do it..." She says quietly, though she frowns a bit. She was really hesitant. She shakes her head slightly, "...I try to make sure things are right. Yes. I try to do things to set things right. Preserving happiness." It wasn't entirely wrong. She did it so she didn't have to think.
She looks at that held out hand, then back up towards Mamoru. She wasn't entirely sure why he was offering the hand to her. Was this to comfort her, or for other reasons? How to social? She reaches her hand out to take it hesitantly. Would it hurt her? Would it hurt /him/? "...My parents always chose for me. I don't... I don't know how to choose my own path."
It doesn't hurt, it doesn't hurt either of them. On the contrary, though his energy is low and the feeling more faint than it would be otherwise, there's a dim golden glow as her hand comes into contact with his, and he shares the peace he has, rather than the nightmares. It's warmth and sunshine, it's the calm of a bright, silent day in a glade deep in a primeval forest; it's a grounding connection with the Earth itself, changing and unchanging, cyclical and predictable, strong and enduring.
"We're both," he says solemnly, "still very young. We're both finding our paths. You don't need to know everything. Just trust that things will work out, no matter how lost you feel now. As long as you keep striving, as long as you keep preserving happiness where you can and protecting goodness when you find it, things will work out. Sleep on it, Suzu-chan. Let go a little at a time, and think of the people you've come to care about as you've met them, and think about the things worth protecting. We'll both find our way."
... That golden glow was... interesting. That peace and warmth and sunshine. It was /definitely/ not something to recoil from, though she stays silent as she looks towards their hands. She looks back towards Mamoru, listening as he speaks once more. Listening silently. His words were so strangely wise. How was he so wise when, as he said, they were both very young? She straightens up slightly, wondering if his lack of knowing who he was was part of it. Maybe something with those dreams.
"...It's true. We are..." She murmurs, her eyes sliding closed as she thinks quietly. Preserving happiness where she can. Protecting goodness when she can find it. Maybe ... it was good enough. "...Yes. I'll sleep on it." She says, straightening up. "...the thinking of people is very easy. I have you and Hannah." She murmurs, giving a small nod. "I should probably get going, before a nurse comes in and wonders how I got here." She says, beginning to stand and make her way for the window.
It didn't hurt him, but he is tired; despite sleeping earlier, he's still mending and it was a very, very busy afternoon. Falling lightly back against the pillows, the eleventh-grader gives Suzuki a slight, wry, and affectionate smile. "Wait'll you meet Sailor Moon for real. I think you'll like her even more," he says sleepily. "Good night, Suzuki-chan. Dream well."